Anchor
by VampirePam
Summary: When Mike crashes hard after his first reversal, Briggs is there to pick up the pieces. Missing scene from the pilot. Pre-Slash.


"Agent Briggs saved my life." The words echo in his head. _Saved my life. _The implications of what would have happened if Briggs _hadn't _hit him like a punch to the gut, and suddenly everything is blurring around the edges. Mike absently feels his knees buckle as the picture abruptly cuts out.

When it returns, he's seated on the ground - legs bent in a heap beneath him - a strong arm around his shoulders and a low voice murmuring, "You did good, kid. You did so good."

"Briggs?" His voice sounds so small and far away that he almost doesn't recognize it. Mike isn't even sure why he asks the question - the only other people there are the dead Russians in the car. The thought that it could have so easily been him and Briggs sends a shiver through his body.

"Yeah, man, it's me. I'm right here." Briggs cocks his arm around Mike's neck like he's going to bring him in for a headlock...except then his fingers are running through Mike's hair, he's bringing his other arm around to fold him into his side, and oh God, Mike can't think of anything he'd rather do than let him.

"Adrenaline - in this job, it's your best friend and your worst enemy." Mike doesn't trust himself to speak. Far easier to remain silent and lets Briggs' words wash over him. "Heat of the moment, you're leaping tall buildings in a single bound. Twenty minutes later, you crash, and suddenly standing seems really ambitious. Nothing to do then but ride it out."

"And...the dizziness?" Mike murmurs. The world is spinning disconcertingly around him.

"Just close your eyes." The hand that has been stroking his hair is now guiding his head down until it's resting on the soft henley covering Briggs' shoulder. "And breathe slowly. In. And out. In. And out again. Just like that."

Mike does his best to obey as Briggs repeats the mantra two, then three more times. He summons every coping skill they taught him at Quantico to focus on his own breaths, the calm timbre of Briggs' voice, and the warmth of the arms around him and the shoulder pillowing his head.

The minutes pass, and the breaths begin to come a little easier. When he dares to open his eyes, Mike is relieved to see that the yard of the safe house is static once again.

As he places a hand on Briggs' chest to push back to a sitting position, a strange voice in his head suggests that he stay where he is. Mike shakes this notion aside quickly.

"Better?" Briggs keeps his voice light, but Mike can see the worry on his face.

He nods, attempts a smile. What the hell is he supposed to say now? "Thanks for, uh..." _The snuggling? Letting me basically cry on your fucking shoulder? _

Briggs takes pity and doesn't make him finish. "Hey, don't sweat it, man." He cuffs him on the shoulder with another of those ineffable smiles of his. "First reversal isn't easy on anybody, and you got dealt a shittier hand than most."

With the grace of a cat, Briggs is on his feet in seconds. Mike is about to join him when a horrible thought occurs. "Oh God, they heard everything, didn't they?" He buries his head in his hands with a groan. "Johnny's never going to let me live this down.

"Lesson number forty-seven, rookie," The grin Briggs sends him now is warm and easy. "FBI equipment _never_ works the way it's supposed to. That watch, for example - I think you'll find that it's been failing to transmit for the past ten minutes."

Briggs lowers a hand and pulls him to his feet, slinging a companionable arm around his shoulders. Mike feels almost faint with relief.

"Just between you and me? Johnny vomited after his first reversal. The only reason he's still breathing is that he missed my wing tips." He grins again, this one wide and cocky, and Mike actually feels himself smiling in return.

"Come on, kid. Let's get you back to Graceland." Briggs pivots him away from the crime scene as an ambulance pulls into the driveway. "Only one thing for a day like this, and that's good friends and good brews."

Mike is filled with a want to thank him again, to sear the image of that grin into his memory...and more than anything, to lean into that shoulder just one more time.


End file.
